Friday, May 26, 2006

Shake Those Dreds...

The following post was stimulated by a blog of a friend (well, a "myspace friend") Angela, in which she contemplated cutting off her locks. She was questioning if men were intimidated by women with locks and vice versa, and dealing with peoples preconceived judgments and expectations for those with locks...my reply was as follows:

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Hmm...to chop or not to chop...

Any man that is intimidated by a hairstyle isn't really much of a man now is he? I mean if dude gets intimidated by a sisters locks, maybe black women ain't his cup of tea in the first place. Some men are going to be intimidated by a woman's beauty, intelligence, success, or just intimidated by her expectations, but why should she apologize for being valuable and aware of it? She can play down certain attributes and try to amplify others, because of what she thinks the typical man values, but who wants typical? The best wines can only be truly appreciated by a few with well developed palates, but I have seen a lot of Chteau Lafite ladies emulating 2 Buck Chuck* broads who appeal to the vulgar masses. Besides, the further she travels from her genuine self, the more difficult it becomes to maintain the illusion. How long can she stay out there while her real self is ignored and unappreciated?

As for brothers such as myself with dreds, I think women tend to like or dislike locks on a man from a strictly aesthetical point of view: do they agree with him or does he look like a broke-ass Busta Rhymes? I don't think locks on a man could ever really intimidate a woman. I didn't notice a major difference in the way black women responded to me when I locked my hair...they were just as suspecting and cynical as ever. (Just kidding...sort of.) I mean maybe some tended to presume that I was vegan (until they saw me eating the filthy swine) or politically left-leaning (I am undecided on whether Che Guevera is martyr or murderer) or a weed smoker (*cough* drugs are bad..mmmkay) but these are secondary traits that don't say much about my character anyway. I have to prove I am actually worth a woman's time and energy, before she starts assessing whether she is comfortable with herself in relationship to me. By the time her insecurities come to the surface and she can feel intimidated, she is fairly comfortable blaming me for whatever she is experiencing anyway. Women...

But I am not bitter.

Lets see…where was I? Oh yeah, dred locks

As for the preconceived notions you spoke of...I say fuck it. I think people are going to have preconceived notions about you no matter what you do. There is much worse that people can presume about you than characterstics like self-aware, conscientious, and maybe a little elitist. People could presume you were a violent, hyper-sexual nihilist as they inject their fears about their own unchecked will to power into your presumably large genitalia, all the while trying to appropriate your presumed cool and swagger and buying 90% of the schlock masquerading as hip hop that you produce. That would kind of suck.

So...

I try to use the dred stereotypes to my advantage. I have always wanted people to be titillated enough to spend a little time getting to know me as an individual, so my only rule has always been not to send one cohesive message. If I exuded the archetypical black bohemian (you know dreds, sandals, spoken word poems about his nubian queen, broke, trifling) that would most likely be a mark of anything BUT an individual, in my case anyway. It says "I don't know who I am nor do I trust that you will accept me, so I am going to put on this pre-fabricated identity, if you are equally confused maybe you will be impressed."

Priests, policeman, and politicians alike, they all put on one uniform or another to gain our trust, but we all know better. Very few people fit perfectly into a mold and its always the people who walk their own path who leave an impression on us anyway. That is why I am just as likely to quote Jay-Z as Ghandi, why I don’t see anything wrong with Hennessey and soy milk, and why my Nag Champa is right next to the Camel Lights and scat porn. Okay, I don’t really have scat porn, but if I did I hope I wouldn't keep that shit** hidden away just because its not consistent with having dreds.

mr. wilson

*I am not hating on Charles Shaw. There is a time an a place for inexpensive and readily available goods, literally and figuratively...

**If you got my pun in the last sentence, thank you for being perceptive you little pervert.